


Magic Soup

by Alexicon



Series: dc works [11]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6474640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexicon/pseuds/Alexicon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian is sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic Soup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegalacticpope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegalacticpope/gifts).



Damian could hear Grayson creeping into his room quite clearly. Damian suspected the man was making himself intentionally audible, as the shadows on Damian’s wall showed that he was crouched into a ridiculous pose as he took large footsteps toward the bed.

“If you are trying to be amusing, it isn’t working,” Damian croaked. He refused to move, even when the shadows showed Grayson had stopped in his tracks. It didn’t matter. Grayson shouldn’t get close to him anyway; being sick would prevent him from patrolling (or rather Pennyworth would, as he had a firm stance on patrolling whilst ill, and had proved to be formidable in the face of Grayson’s petulance).

Damian cried out in surprise and muted pain when the lights turned on, and sighed when they went out the next second with a quiet apology to accompany their absence. 

“I brought something for you,” Grayson whispered.

“Well? What is it?”

“A magic potion Alfred made to make you feel better,” the man replied. His smile was obvious in his voice. “It’s got chicken and noodles, just what you need right now.”

“I’m not an idiot,” said Damian. “I have heard of chicken soup before.”

“And you’re going to have some now, or Alfred will be very sad.” Grayson told him. “He may cry.”

“He would not,” Damian scoffed, but it turned into a cough on the last word. When the fit passed, he shrugged off Grayson’s hand from his back and sat up as straight as he could manage.

“I’m sorry you’re sick, kid,” Grayson murmured.

“You could not have done anything about it.”

Grayson sighed. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Damian refused to answer. “Give me the soup,” he demanded suddenly. “And give me the book from my desk, I want to read.”

Grayson had been handing Damian the soup, but paused at the second request. “You can’t hold both at once,” he pointed out.

Damian set his face. “I want to read,” he repeated, holding the spoon and bowl with both hands and glaring at Grayson pointedly.

Understanding came over the man’s face then. “How about I read to you?” he suggested, politely not mentioning that perhaps that had been Damian’s desire in the first place.

Damian settled back into his pillows with a wriggle and a small smile. He was satisfied now.

“Very well,” he allowed, and sipped broth from his spoon.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://lexiconallie.tumblr.com)!


End file.
